


The Wall

by inkandpaperqwerty



Series: The Best of Kansas [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Defeating Lucifer, Family, Friendship, Gen, Monster Hunter Spencer Reid, Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural), Some Spencer Angst, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Team Free Will, angel traps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:57:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpaperqwerty/pseuds/inkandpaperqwerty
Summary: After months of research and experimentation, Team Free Will is finally ready to cage the Devil. They cross their Ts, dot their Is, and then it's time to summon. They can only pray that what they've managed to scrape together is enough to get the job done.





	The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> This series must be read in order.

“Okay, here we go.” Spencer backed away from the trap he had drawn in the dirt, dusting off his hands and turning his head to look at his audience. “Castiel, step in and see what happens.”

Castiel considered the intricate circle for several moments, and then he carefully walked into the Star of David that made up the center. He frowned slightly, turning around to face Bobby, Spencer, Sam, and Dean. “I feel something, at the very least.”

“Can you fly out?” Sam asked, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear only to have the summer wind blow it back into his face.

Castiel was still for a moment, his eyes closed in concentration, and then he shook his head. “No, I can’t.” He walked toward the edge of the circle, making it almost all the way out before jerking to a halt. “And I can’t leave of my own volition.”

Spencer threw both fists in the air. “Yes!” He turned to Sam and Dean and Bobby, holding his hands out for a series of high fives, which they readily gave. “We did it!”

“I can’t believe it,” Sam laughed through the words, shaking his head. “You invented an angel trap.”

Spencer held up a finger, already moving to break the circle and let Castiel out. “_We _invented an angel trap.” He crouched down and raked his fingers through the dirt. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Sam.”

Sam scoffed, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well, I still say you did most of the work.”

Castiel stepped out of the circle, a small smile pulling on the corner of his mouth. “Congratulations, Doctor.” He shook his head. “I… didn’t think this was possible, but you’ve done it.”

Spencer was a little out of breath, heart racing from the excitement. “We, uh, we still don’t know if it’ll work on archangels.” He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his sweater, nodding toward the trap on the ground. “We also need to run some tests and find out how long it lasts, if any powers can be used while inside, and so on. Oh! If we’re going to use it on other angels, we’ll need to—”

“Spencer.” Dean held out his hands. “Slow down, man.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Take time to appreciate the victories.”

Bobby adjusted his hat and started wheeling his chair back toward the house. “I’ll drink to that.” He gave the wheels another turn and looked over his shoulder. “We should _all_ drink to that.”

Dean started walking after him immediately. “Sounds good to me.”

Sam wrapped an arm around Spencer’s shoulders and pulled him along. “I’ll have a Coke.” He said it to no one in particular, but Spencer knew Sam was only avoiding alcohol so Spencer wasn’t the only one staying sober.

“Thanks,” Spencer mumbled, a small smile flickering across his features.

“I think I will have a Coke, too.” Castiel walked on Spencer’s other side, a curious twist to his lips. “It all tastes like molecules to me, but I like the way Coke tickles my nose when I sniff it.”

Spencer laughed, and he heard Sam let out a chuckle of his own.

They got to the house, and Spencer jogged up the stairs to grab the door while Dean pushed Bobby up the ramp. Spencer held the door open until everyone was inside, and then he followed them into the kitchen.

“So, seriously.” Dean grabbed a beer and slammed the rim of the bottlecap down on the counter. “We should celebrate.” He took a swig and grabbed the cap, tossing it into the nearby trashcan. “And we deserve some time off.”

Spencer felt a small twist in his gut at the suggestion, his eyes wandering down to the Coke he had gotten for himself. He knew Dean meant well, but Spencer couldn’t quite get his head around the concept of taking a break when they were so close. Once they put the angel trap through some tests, all they needed was a location for The Cage Mark II. How could they stop when they were _that _close?

_If this was a case of terrorism, there’s no way we’d take time off. _

But Spencer wasn’t on an FBI team anymore. He was on a monster-hunting team, and they played by different rules.

“Spencer?”

Spencer shook himself and looked at Sam, forcing a quick smile. “Yeah. I’d be okay with taking some time off.”

Not too much time, though. Not when Lucifer was still out there. Not when there were so many innocent lives at risk.

Spencer would make sure of that.

* * *

In the end, it took a little under three months to find a location for The Cage Mark II. It started with Bobby, who located some old documents that talked about something called the ‘Men of Letters’ and a secret bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. Then it was up to Sam, Dean, and Spencer to locate the physical place and make sure it was empty, which it was. After that, it was four months of retrofitting one of the vault-like rooms to be the actual Cage.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Spencer looked up from the circle of holy oil he was pouring onto the floor. “No, but I’m as close to sure as I can be.” He finished pouring the last bit and straightened up, looking around the stone room that would, hopefully, contain Lucifer for the foreseeable future.

“It just—” Sam ran his hand through his hair, seeming somewhat frazzled. “It seems too easy. I mean, this is Lucifer we’re talking about.”

“Easy and unsuccessful don’t always go hand-in-hand.” Spencer put the jar of holy oil in the hallway and came back, indicating the ring he had just poured. “We know holy oil works on archangels because it worked on Gabriel. You were able to trick Gabriel into a ring of holy oil fairly easily, and according to the profile, Lucifer is going to be just the same, if not easier.” Spencer’s hands started to move as he spoke, fingers together in that odd little way they often were. “Lucifer is arrogant—no, he’s narcissistic, in the clinical sense. Everything in Lucifer’s world revolves around an inflated sense of self. He’ll be easy to trap because he won’t even consider that we might be capable of making a trap that works on him.”

Sam wet his lips, looking around at the stone walls full of carvings. “What if he’s right? What if we can’t trap him?” He spread his arms slightly, turning in place. “I mean, look at this place. We’ve compiled everything we know into one room, and once the holy fire wears off, if this doesn’t keep him contained…”

“We have to take that chance.” Spencer looked around himself, his brain taking even more pictures of the room he had memorized inside and out. “We’re good at what we do.” He looked at Sam. “We have to trust the profile, and we have to trust our skill level. Especially you, Sam.”

Sam looked at Spencer and blinked, clearly confused. “Why me?”

“Because Lucifer has been dragging you down for a long time.” Spencer slipped his hands into his pockets, a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You can do this, Sam. But if you don’t believe you can, you’re not going to put on a convincing show, and he’s gonna see through you.”

Sam looked down and swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Spencer.”

“I do.” Spencer smiled a little wider. “You’re Sam Winchester. You were born to do this.”

Sam scoffed, glancing to the side so he didn’t have to look Spencer in the eye. “I was born to do the exact opposite of this.”

“Sam.” Spencer folded his arms over his chest and tapped his finger impatiently. “Never tell a genius they’re wrong. We don’t like it.”

Sam looked at Spencer for a long moment, and then he huffed out a small, defeated laugh. “Okay. I was born to do this.” He wet his lips and took a deep breath. “Okay. Here we go.”

Spencer started backing toward the door, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “We’ll be right outside if you need us for anything.”

Sam nodded his head and swallowed, looking around the room. “Yeah. Okay.”

Spencer stepped out into the hall and closed the door, leaving it cracked just enough to let sound through.

“Hey.”

Spencer startled slightly, turning on the spot and finding Dean standing there. “What?” Spencer whispered, almost mouthing the words in an effort to stay quiet.

“Thanks for encouraging Sam.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and pressed his lips together in a thin line. “He, uh… he hasn’t been taking encouragement from me seriously.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying not to look as bothered as he was. “And, uh… well, the point is—”

“You’re welcome.” Spencer smiled and gave Dean a thumbs up.

Dean was silent for a moment, and then he nodded his head with a quiet, “Yeah.” He nodded a few more times, and then he cleared his throat, shaking off the ‘emotional talk’ feeling and getting down to business. He pulled two of the Horsemen’s rings from his pocket and handed them over, mouthing the words, “Let’s do this.”

Spencer grinned and took the rings, watching Dean take the other two out of his pocket and hold on tight. Spencer gave a thumbs up.

_Let’s do this, indeed._

* * *

It took nine hours, forty-two minutes, and seventeen seconds for Lucifer to respond.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.” That was Sam.

“Yeah, well, last time we talked, you kinda shot me in the head.” That was Lucifer.

Spencer immediately picked himself off the ground and got his feet beneath him, crouching outside the door and inclining his ear to listen. Dean did the exact same thing on the other side of the doorway, and beyond him, Castiel disappeared.

“Well, last time we talked, Dean hadn’t done… whatever this is.” Sam again.

“He’s definitely got you under lock and key.” Lucifer again, sounding dismissive of the entire situation, which was to be expected. “What should we do about that, Sam?”

Spencer held his breath, heart hammering inside his chest, hands shaking against the wall. He could hear Dean whisper, ‘come on, Sammy,’ under his breath.

“Well, I figured if you could get in here, you could get me out.”

Sam had barely said the last word when Spencer heard the whoosh of the flame igniting the holy oil. Spencer jumped to his feet and tore the door open, taking in the split-second image of Lucifer in the fire before Sam obstructed his view.

“Really?” Lucifer sighed.

Sam ran out, and Spencer got his first, real look at the Prince of Lies.

Standing in the middle of a ring of fire, in the middle of an empty, stone room with ancient script on the walls, was a man. Just a man, with spiked blond hair and dark brown eyes, looking completely human in every way.

Even as a monster hunter, was it impossible to find an evil that didn’t look just like everyone else? Was it impossible to take someone out without going through the psychological stress of harming or killing another human being?

Lucifer spread his hands and uttered another, “Really?” as he looked out the doorway at them. He dropped his arms and clucked his tongue, looking disappointed. “You know, boys, holy oil doesn’t burn forever.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t,” Sam replied, pulling Spencer away from the open door. “Oddly enough, we’re not concerned.”

Sam immediately slammed the door shut, and Spencer and Dean raced to put the four keys into the four sockets that had been welded to the door. Immediately, there was a golden glow, the rings and the lines and symbols in the door shining in the dimly lit hallway. They pulsed for a moment, and then the light died, and the three were left to look at each other in silent anticipation.

“How long did Castiel say the holy oil lasts?” Sam asked.

“Twelve hours,” Dean replied, pulling a deck of cards from his jacket pocket. “Blackjack?”

Spencer watched the door and then slowly started to nod. “Yeah, I’ll play.” He struggled for a second and then managed to tear his eyes away from the door, finding Dean’s face with a faint smile. “Nothing else to do, right?”

Sam was having the same problem Spencer was, his eyes rivetted to the door. “Are we sure we want to be here when the holy oil wears off? We all have Enochian sigils keeping us hidden; maybe we should run.”

Spencer looked between the two brothers for a moment, and when nothing was said, he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You guys can do what you want. I’m staying. If it doesn’t work, I want to know right away.”

Dean shuffled the cards in his hands as he spoke, nodding to the door. “How are you going to know if it doesn’t work? Wouldn’t he just fly away without using the door like the other angels do?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. He’ll be too angry.” There was a moment of silence, all of them processing those words in their own way. “He, uh, he knows he can’t track us because of the sigils on our ribs. He’ll come outside to see if we’re still here.”

Sam bit his lip, probably still considering the idea of running while they had the chance. “I guess… if we’re not here when he busts out, he’ll try and disguise his escape so we think he’s still in the Cage.”

“_If _he busts out.” Spencer held up a finger. “Don’t sound so certain that we’re going to fail.”

“We don’t exactly have the best track record with spiritual beings,” Sam countered, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. “When it’s us against them, we tend to lose unless we have some of them on our side.”

“Speaking of which,” Dean started, still shuffling the cards. “Why isn’t Cas back yet?”

It took Spencer a moment to remember that Castiel had disappeared. If things had gone according to plan, Castiel had joined Xal outside and the two had begun checking for any sign of demon or angel activity nearby. He looked at his watch and did some quick math. “Castiel left nine minutes ago. I would imagine it takes longer than that to check the perimeter.”

Dean snorted, looking down at the cards. “Yeah, well… that better be what it is.” Dean clearly didn’t like Castiel being out of sight when Lucifer was in the area.

Spencer wet his lips and thought about the spiritual duo. _I hope they’re okay. _Especially Xal. Not that Spencer didn’t like Castiel, but Castiel was Sam and Dean’s spiritual sidekick. Xal was Spencer’s.

“So…” Dean held up the deck of cards and repeated his earlier question. “Blackjack?”

Spencer looked between Sam and Dean, offering an alternative. “You don’t have to stay with me. If Lucifer escapes, there’s no point in all three of us dying.”

Dean and Sam gave Spencer a long, hard look.

Dean held up the deck and asked his question yet again, his voice dry. “Blackjack?”

Spencer accepted defeat, offering a small smile and a nod. “Blackjack.”

On one hand, Spencer was glad Sam and Dean decided not to leave him alone with the literal Devil, but on another, he couldn’t help wishing they would run and hide. They still had each other and Bobby and Castiel. Spencer had all but cut off his BAU family, his blood family was dead, and as much as he loved his hunting family, he knew they would be fine without him.

But Spencer wasn’t about to force them to leave, so he put on a smirk and said, “You might come to regret playing Blackjack with me. I _did _grow up in Las Vegas, after all.”

“House always wins?” Sam chuckled.

Spencer grinned. “House always wins.”

Dean snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

* * *

“Okay.” Spencer held his phone in front of his face and watched the timer tick down. “Two minutes left.” He glanced at the Winchesters. “You’re sure you don’t want to leave? There’s really no p—”

Dean interrupted Spencer with a glare. “If you say ‘there’s no point in all of us dying’ one more time, I’m going to kill you before Lucifer even has a chance.”

Spencer held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and then brought his phone back to where he could see it. “Fine. If you want to die in vain, you can die in vain.”

Sam nudged each of them on the arm and nodded toward the door. “Just in case he gets out, I love you guys.”

Spencer nodded, looking back at his phone. “I love you guys, too.”

“No chick-flick moments,” was all Dean would say, but both Spencer and Sam knew exactly what it meant.

“Ten seconds.” Spencer glanced over at the brothers. “Should I count down?”

Sam nodded while Dean shook his head.

“Right,” Spencer breathed, heart hammering in his chest. He watched the numbers tick down slowly, anticipation building, and then there were four zeroes on the screen. “Time.”

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. They all stared at the door.

Seconds passed in silence and stillness. Nothing happened. It wasn’t blown out or busted down, and nothing was banging on the other side.

“There’s no way he wouldn’t come out to see if we were still around.” Spencer put his hand on the door, slightly out of breath from the adrenaline high. “He can’t get out.” He knocked on the door and waited, but nothing happened. “That I can’t profile. Either the angel trap worked on him and he can’t reach the door, or he’s refusing to hit the door because he doesn’t want to admit he’s stuck in there.”

Spencer turned away from the room and looked at Sam and Dean, eyes alight with excitement. “We did it. We trapped the Devil.” He threw his hands up. “We did it!” Spencer threw himself at the brothers, throwing an arm around each neck and hugging them tightly. He felt a hand on either side of him and screwed his eyes shut, savoring the sensation of a group hug.

“I can’t believe it worked.” Sam laughed, squeezing Spencer before letting go and taking his own turn at inspecting the door. “We actually trapped Lucifer.”

Dean was quick to put distance between himself and the hugging. “And we’re sure he wouldn’t just disappear?”

Spencer shook his head. “It doesn’t fit his profile. Narcissists are prone to fits of rage. Right now, nothing matters to him more than punishing us for outsmarting him. If he could get out, he would be busting down the door right now to get to us.”

Sam looked at the door for a long moment, and then he looked at Spencer with approval in his eyes. “I trust your profile.”

Dean thought about it for a moment, and then he almost reluctantly nodded his head and admitted, “Yeah, I trust it, too.”

Spencer held up his phone. “I’m gonna call Bobby and let him know it worked.”

“Let him know we’re coming home for our stuff,” Dean replied.

Spencer gave him a questioning look.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, gesturing to the stone hallway they were standing in. “Someone’s got to keep an eye on this place. It’s warded from just about everything, it’s got a big library full of lore…” He shrugged again, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Sammy and I are gonna stay here permanently. We’ll still head out on hunts, of course, but…”

Sam picked up as Dean trailed off, nodding affirmatively. “We need to monitor the Cage and make sure it continues to work. And who knows? Maybe somewhere in this bunker, there’s a secret how-to for killing archangels. Maybe we can end this thing for good.”

Spencer looked at them for a few moments, and then he nodded, agreeing with their decision. “I’ll call Bobby.”

Sam nodded while Dean gave a thumbs up, and Spencer started scrolling through his contacts.

_We did it. We trapped the Devil and put the Apocalypse on hold. _

Spencer smiled to himself, pressing the button to call Bobby.

_We did it._

* * *

Sam walked out of Bobby’s house and felt a twist of worry in his gut when he saw what Spencer was doing. “Don’t you ever take a break?”

Spencer looked up from packing his car and offered a small smile. “I can’t stay in one place for very long.” He gave his bag another shove and slammed the back door. “I get cabin fever. And I’ve been here for months.”

Sam let out a small, uncertain laugh, burying his hands in his pockets to hide them from the winter chill. “Yeah, but… I mean, we just defeated Lucifer.” He spread his arms. “The Apocalypse is over. Don’t you want to rest a little?”

Spencer gave Sam a sad kind of smile. “Thanks, Sam, but I gotta keep moving.”

Sam watched in silence as Spencer walked to the back of his car and slammed the trunk, giving the car an affectionate pat when he was done. Spencer then walked to the driver’s door and grabbed the handle.

“Wait, you’re leaving now?” Sam couldn’t quite keep the hurt from his voice, and he certainly couldn’t fend off the flood of worry. “You didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. And you’ve got to be exhausted; you should get some sleep.”

Spencer only shrugged. “I’ll see you again,” he said, as if that made it okay to bail. “And I’m good on sleep. I’ve driven on less.”

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he did, he hoped he wasn’t overstepping a boundary. “Spencer… you’re a part of our family just as much as Castiel and Bobby. We weren’t…” He trailed off and then shook his head with a sigh. “We weren’t going to run off to the next hunt and leave you.”

Spencer look at Sam for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, there was a bitter note in his voice and a sardonic twist to his lips. “I’ve had a lot of family, Sam.”

Without another word, Spencer opened the door and got in the car. He shut it, the engine fired up, and he rolled his window down.

“Hey,” Spencer called, flashing a quick but seemingly genuine smile. “Make sure you tell everyone I’ll miss them. Text me if you want to talk about something.” He put his hand out the window and waved.

Sam waved back, feeling almost dazed, like the sudden departure had literally punched him in the gut. He watched the car head down the dirt driveway toward the road, his hand still moving back and forth, eyes never leaving the reddish-purple vehicle he had gotten so used to seeing in the driveway.

It took a few seconds, but Sam finally dropped his hand and turned around to go back inside.

_“I’ve had a lot of family, Sam.”_

But they had taken down Lucifer together. Didn’t that create some sort of… bond or something? Didn’t that form some kind of trust? Some kind of something special that hadn’t been there before?

_Well, I guess he took down monsters with his last family, too. They’re gone, so it makes sense he thinks we would do the same._

Not to mention, there had been a couple times in the past where they were there and gone again—especially Sam—so it wasn’t like they had a history of sticking around.

Sam turned around and started walking back toward Bobby’s house. _He must have been really close to his team_.

And it occurred to Sam that he had never really talked to Spencer about his old life. On the first night they met, Spencer had talked about some cases and Sam got to witness some of Spencer’s trauma… then, during the vampire case, they all met Garcia and learned about Spencer’s mother… but after that, Spencer was helping them. Spencer was listening to and talking about them. They were there, and they were helping him, but they weren’t focused on his past. They were focused on his present and future.

Sam wet his lips and opened the screen door before opening the wooden door and walking in. He turned around and shut the door behind him, concern creasing his brow.

_Maybe I should call Garcia?_

But what could Garcia do? She could try to talk to Spencer, but Spencer seemed pretty closed off at the moment. Maybe it was best to let Spencer handle his trauma how he saw fit.

_Yeah. I guess I’ll just let it go for now._

Sam’s stomach twisted into knots at the thought. It wasn’t right, Spencer wasn’t okay, and Sam had to _do _something. But Sam didn’t know what to do, and he still had his own issues to sort out.

So, despite the nagging concern in his gut, he shook it off and decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

For now, at least.

* * *

“Dad! Dad, the coolest thing happened today!”

Hotch looked up from his work and smiled slightly. “What happened, James?” It was still strange to call Jack by another name, even after nearly a year of witness protection.

Jack slid into the seat across from Hotch, bouncing in the chair, more excited than Hotch had seen in a while. “You’re not gonna believe it. Like, seriously, you’re not gonna believe it! He told me not to tell anybody, but I _have _to tell someone.”

Every red flag Hotch had ever flown immediately shot to the top of its mast, his attention shifting to focus entirely on his son. Jack might have seemed excited, but when men approached young boys and told them not to tell anyone about the encounter, things could never be good.

“James, tell me what happened.”

Jack was still bouncing. “I was riding my bike through the park, and I wiped out. I mean, I _wiped out, _Dad. I think I broke my arm, and I was all scraped up, and my head was bleeding, and I was about to call you and tell you to come get me, and this guy just… I don’t know, showed up. I didn’t see where he came from. I was looking down at my arm, and then he said my name—my real name—so I looked up.”

Hotch was beyond confused. Jack had a little bit of a tendency to exaggerate, but there wasn’t a single scratch anywhere on him. He couldn’t have exaggerated _that _much.

“He touched my forehead with two fingers and bam. I was better. It was all gone.” Jack was grinning widely, eyes lit up and shining. “He said his name was Castiel, and that I should say his name if I was ever in danger and needed help, and then he said he was an Angel of the Lord and not to tell anyone I met him.” He bounced in his chair again. “Dad, angels are _real! _And I met one! I met an _angel _today!”

Hotch wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, but he smiled out of instinct and tried to be supportive. “That’s… that’s incredible, James.” He broadened his smile and pushed a little curiosity into his tone. “Do you, uh… can you tell me what he looked like? Did he have wings?”

Jack shook his head as he spoke. “Nope! He was tall—like, as tall as you are—with dark hair and blue eyes. He was in a suit, but his tie was all messed up. Oh! And he was wearing a tan trench coat. But he just looked like a regular guy. That was the coolest part. I mean, what if there’s more of them?”

Hotch pursed his lips and nodded seriously. “It sounds like that could be possible.” He racked his brain for an answer, trying to decide if Jack had been drugged or if he was experiencing some kind of psychotic break. “He picked a good time to show up.” Jack was too young for it to be schizophrenia. “I know… I know this hasn’t been easy on you… becoming another person, changing everything…”

But was it difficult enough that Jack’s mind was starting to fracture? It _had _been almost a year to the day. Anniversaries were significant; maybe the upcoming marker for their change in identity was proving to be too much of a stressor.

_I lost Haley to the job… I can’t lose Jack, too._

Jack shrugged with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “Yeah, I guess he did. I didn’t really think about that, but it _does _feel good to know someone’s looking out for me.” He grinned again. “I met an angel. I can’t believe I can’t tell anyone but you!”

Hotch offered another smile, resting his arms on the table and meeting Jack’s eyes. “Did you see him leave? Did he fly?”

Jack shook his head. “No! He was just… there one minute and gone the next.” He shook his head again, slower, disbelief etched into every feature. “I swear I heard wings flapping when he left… but that must have been the wind.”

Hotch nodded his head, feigning an amazement of his own. “That’s… wow. I mean, that’s unbelievable.” He leaned forward slightly. “What did it feel like when he healed you?”

“I don’t know, it was kind of…” Jack looked up at the ceiling, twisting his lips and tilting his head from side to side. “It was like being hit with a burst of cold air, but it was… deeper than my skin? I don’t know. It’s really hard to describe.”

Hotch nodded. “Hey, it’s not like there’s anything else you could compare it to, right?”

Jack laughed and nodded. “True. I can’t really Google, ‘typical feeling when healed by an angel.’”

Hotch chuckled softly, and then begged another question, outwardly curious and inwardly panicked. “What did his voice sound like?”

Jack shrugged. “It was really deep, but it was just a normal voice.”

Hotch leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Wow… that’s incredible, Jack. I don’t even have words.”

Hotch realized immediately that he must have made a mistake, because Jack was staring back with a frown and distrustful eyes.

“You called me Jack.”

Hotch stopped, thinking back. “Did I?”

Jack spoke again, anger slipping into his voice. “You only call me Jack when you’re worried.” Slight shaking and oncoming tears joined the anger in shaping Jack’s voice. “You don’t believe me. You think I’m crazy.”

Hotch inwardly cursed himself, shaking his head with an emphatic, “Jack, no_. _I don’t think you’re crazy. I think… maybe we should look at some alternative answers, just to be safe, but that doesn’t mean—”

Jack snorted, looking down at his lap. “He was right. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Jack, wait—” Hotch reached out just as Jack got to his feet.

Jack left the kitchen behind and made a break for the stairs, footsteps thudding the whole way. “I’m going to my room, _Allen!_”

Hotch let out a soft sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Well, that could have gone better. _Exactly how it could have gone better, he didn’t know, because there wasn’t really a good way to approach a psychotic break without the subject getting explosive. _What I wouldn’t give to ask Dave for advice…_

But he couldn’t ask Dave. He couldn’t ask anyone, because he didn’t know anyone well enough to trust them. He could try and get a therapist, but Jack would likely deny everything, and there was only so much treatment they could offer on Hotch’s word alone.

_Tch. An angel is exactly what we need._

Unfortunately for both of them, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Hotch would have to figure things out on his own. Or rather, Allen Smith would have to figure things out on his own.

_I’m so sorry, Haley._

* * *

_“Oh, there is nothing to lose,_

_'Cause it's already lost._

_In a runaway world of confusion,_

_I'm not gonna take it._

_That's why I fight fire with fire,_

_Oh, I'm burning inside and my heart is a-cryin'._

_Fire with fire,_

_I don't want to lose this flamin' desire."_

_\- Fight Fire With Fire, Kansas_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with the lack of action between Lucifer and Team Free Will. I was initially planning out something bigger and more extravagant, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized Lucifer would be too smart not to figure things out if the plan went on for too long. I tried to base it around the capturing of Gabriel, to keep it in line with the canon expectation of archangels. Again, I hope nobody is disappointed.
> 
> Having said all that, I have some exciting new storylines for this series. Expect to see more of the BAU team, and you might learn some surprising things about what's been happening since Spencer left.


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